. PS 



THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 
By Kendall Banning 




ClassT 6 3 v? (3 
GopightN" / 9 g. Q 

CfiEXRIGHT OEPOSm 



TO MY MOTHER 



THE PHANTOM 

CARAVAN 

BY KENDALL BANNING 




CHICAGO 
THE BOOKFELLOWS 

1920 






COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY 
FLORA WARREN SEYMOUR 



THE TORCH PRESS 
DEC -9 1920 CEDAR RAPIDS 

IOWA 



CLAG04500 



■^^-N.*; 




CONTENTS 

Frontispiece by Lejaren a Hiller 

The Phantom Caravan . . . 13 

The Great Adventure . . . . 17 

The Call of the Seven Seas . . 18 

An' If I Had a True Love ... 19 

The Gallows Tree .... 20 

Romance Is Dead? 21 

Fortunes 22 

Once On a Time 23 

The Morning Wind .... 24 

The Open Road 25 

Midsummer . 26 

By Lantern Light 27 

Roses of the Night 28 

The Wanderlure 29 

Until You Came ..... 30 

Immune 31 

The House of Dream .... 32 

Shriven 33 

Love Is Ever Young and Fair . . 35 

A Song of the Unafraid ... 36 

Alone 37 

Requiem 39 

Radiant as the Morning ... 40 

Love Triumphant 41 

Because, O Best Beloved ... 43 

Impregnable . . . * . . . 44 

[9] 



The Winds of God 45 

Unconquered 47 

Ah, Pierrot! 48 

In Arcady by Moonlight ... 49 

When Death Shall Die ... 50 

The Phantom Drums . . . . 51 

The Challenge 52 

Coronation 53 

Shadows 54 

God's Puppets 55 

In Lilt of Song by Starlight . . 56 

Once on a Radiant Morning . . 57 

The Grail 58 

Beyond .59 



[10] 



THE PHANTOM CARAVAN 



[II] 



THE PHANTOM 
CARAVAN 



OUT OF the Dusk they troop, my son, from the 
uttermost pales of the Past, 
Where the spark of their lives was lit by the 

Norns and their courses moulded and cast. 
As a cavalcade they ride them forth, in a line from 

Ab to you ; 
Your brawn is theirs and your brain is theirs; you 

do as they bid you do. 
The urge of a million sires and dames in the blood 

of your pulses runs 
As o^ur own urge will sometime surge in the sons 

of your childrens' sons. 
In weird array the grim and gay, the priest and 

the pagan ride; 
The knight with the knave, the king with the slave 

and the wanton, side by side. 
Out of the Dusk they troop — a wild, fantastical 

masque of man. 
As we shall ride in the blood of our sons in the 

phantom caravan. 

[13] 



The Pilgrim with the Vandal rides, 

The Saxon with the Gaul, 
The sons of David, Lludd and Noah 

Ride with the sons of Saul. 

One is a Prince Henry of Navarre; 

Leonid as is there, 
And Richard of the Lion Heart 

And Alex Do-and-Dare. 

One is the Seigneur Ber du Lac, 
Sometimes surnamed The Lance, 

Who fought the fight and died the death 
With Joan, the Maid of France. 

And one is Aram, priest of Baal, 

Who braved the wrath of Tyre 
To preach His Word, and for that Word 

Was done to death by fire. 

And one is Arnold, he whose voice 

Nor King nor Pope could still. 
Who fought for Right, — and for that Right 

Was hanged on Caelus Hill. 

One is Gur Khan of Balasghun, 

The warrior King and Seer, 
Who broke the might of Islam's arms 

At Ibn al-Athir. 



[14] 



And hosts there be of goodly folk 
Who run of small renown, — 

Of soldier, merchant, scholar, prince, 
Of cobbler, clerk and clown. 

And one is Anne, who watched the herds 
And spread her humble board 

Before the poor, and spun the flax 
And died within the Lord. 

And there be shepherd, tradesman, groom 

Who went but lowly ways, 
Who tilled the field, and ground the grain 

Through unadventured days. 

And some be of the wastrel folk, 

Of spendthrift, tyrant, cheat. 
Of wanton, witch and thief, who grew 

As tares grow in the wheat. 

There ride Sir Sidney, Bayard, Drake, 
There Cyrus rides, the Mede, 

And some there be of Hector's line 
And some of Beowulf's breed. 

These be the folk who kept the faith 
And lived and loved thereby, — 

Who fought the fight, who ran the race. 
Who died as men should die. 



[15] 



The flames of a million sires and dames in t 

blood of your pulses run ; 
Of a million flames to feed and serve, how can y 

serve but one? 
Their prides are yours; their loves and their lus 

their hopes and their hates are your own ; 
You are the fruit that their lions have bred, t 

flower of the seed they have sown. 
Their lives are spun as the threads of your cloj 

through the warp and the woof of your Whol 
Your hands are theirs and your eyes are theirs ai 

your Mould and your Self and your Soul. 
The dreams they dreamed and the fights th 

fought and the prayers that their lips have praye( 
Shall be your dreams and shall be your prayer 

your fights are the fights they made. 
The lives they lived and the deaths they died y 

shall live and die again ; 
In you is the seed of a million hopes of a milli 

maids and men. 

God grant, my son, that you fight the fight ai 
hold to the faith. Amen! 



[i6] 



THE GREAT ADVENTURE 

GOD, the Master Pilot, — 
Or gods, if such there be, — 
Pour me no weakling's measure 

When ye pour the wine for me! 
Of love, of pain, of pleasure, 

I'll drain the draught ye give; 

Of good and ill, give me the fill 

Of the life ye bade me live ! 

Spare me no tithe of favor; 

With fortune pave my path; 
Nor hold the hands of vengeance 

When I deserve your wrath. 
Whatever fates ye send me. 

Whatever cast the sky. 
Grant me the grace to live a man 

And as a man to die ! 

Upon the good I render 

Let shine your proudest sun ; 
And rest me in the valleys 

When my last trick is done. 
For these, your utmost portions, 

I'll pay the utmost toll, 
So this, my life, become the great 

Adventure of my soul ! 



[17] 



THE CALL OF THE SEVEN SEAS 

I HEAR the call of the wanderlust, 
And God knows why, but go I must. 
Until my bones are drifting dust 

I'll follow the sea-gulls' cry; 
The bow-wash song to the dog-watch bell, 
The kick o' the wheel and the chanties' spell 
Get hold of a man in spite o' Hell, 
And better a man than I ! 

I've ranged and rogued and I've done my bit; 
I've danced the dance and I've paid for it; 
I've turned my heel on the Scripture's writ 

In the lure of an alien eye. 
But I set no store in the likes o' these; 
I want the sweep of the Seven Seas, 
The mainsail haul to a biting breeze 

And a star to steer me by! 

And yet, — the old dream comes to me 
Of a quiet home where I would be 
Beyond the trackless miles o' the sea 

And the far-blown clouds o' foam. 
My homeland's call sets me a' stir 
With hopes as brave as once they were. 
And my heart cries out to the cry of her, — 

For she calls me, this time, home! 



[i8] 



AN' IF I HAD A TRUE LOVE 

OH, some be of the forest, 
And some be of the town; 
Some be of the gypsy breed 

That wander up and down. 
But I be of the sailormen, 

And they be of the sea, — 
An' if I had a true love 
What could she be to me? 

The shepherd to the mountain. 

The herdsmen to the plain, 
To each there be of womankind 

To call him home again. 
But I be of the sailormen 

And they be of the sea, — 
An' if I had a true love 

What could she be to me? 



[19] 



THE GALLOWS TREE 

THE gallows tree is a proper tree 
And proper fruit it bears 
Of knights and knaves, of lords and slaves, 

Of wastrel do-and-dares. 
Princes, pirates, priests and pagans 

From its gibbets swing. 
Oh, well it serves the countryside, 
And well it serves the king! 

The gallows stands on Tyburn Hill, 

A guide-post to the Lord ; 
And many a prayer is answered there, — 

At the end of a hempen cord. 
It hangs 'em high and it hangs 'em dead, 

Where God and man may see . . . 
But for the grace of good St. H'es 

There hang the bones o' me! 



[20] 



ROMANCE IS DEAD? 

CCtt^OMANCE is dead! Alas, Romance!" 

AV. The nodding graybeards sagely say. 
Once on a time, were they, too, young 

Who are so sagely old and gray? 
Romance is dead ! Yet lovers stroll 

The self-same street and country lane 
Their forebears strolled in by-gone days 

And pairs to come will stroll again. 
Romance is dead ! Yet hearts still thrill 

To luring eyes, and hands still meet 
And men and maids still build their dreams 

And still find kisses wonder-sweet. 
The battlefields of peace upraise 

Their gleaming minarets of trade 
And youth still gaily sets his lance, 

And rides him forth, still unafraid. 
Still High Adventure calls its own ; 

Indomitable pioneers 
Still rear new standards, blaze new trails; 

Still valor triumphs over fears. 
Romance is dead? Is life less dear 

Or faith less firm? Are maids less fair? 
Are hopes less fond, or men less brave 

Than in the knightly days that were? 
Can romance ever know the bonds 

Of time or place or circumstance? 
Romance is dead ? Then hail the king 

Who rules today — Long Iwe romance! 

[21] 



E 



FORTUNES 

ondon's streets are brave to see, and London's 

towers are splendid, 
And Fortune waits at London's gates to smile 

and speak me fair. 
But what would I with Fortune's smile or all the 

wealth o' London, 
Unless the lass I love the best should come to 

greet me there? 

The quays are piled with merchandise, with silk 
brocades and silver; 
I hear the trade wind callin', and the tide is 
running free. 
But what would I with silk brocades, or all of 
India's wonders, 
Unless the lass I love the best should come 
again to me? 



[22] 



ONCE ON A TIME 

ONCE on a time, once on a time, 
Before the Dawn began, 
There was a nymph of Dian's train 

Who was beloved of Pan ; 

Once on a time a peasant lad 

Who loved a lass at home ; 

Once on a time a Saxon king 

Who loved a queen of Rome. 

The world has but one song to sing, 

And it is ever new; 
The first and last of all the songs, 

For it is ever true ; 
A little song, a tender song. 

The only song it hath: 
'There was a youth of Ascalon 

Who loved a girl of Gath." 

A thousand thousand years have gone, 

And aeons still shall pass. 
Yet shall the world forever sing 

Of him who loved a lass — 
An olden song, a golden song, 

And sing it unafraid ; 
"There was a youth, once on a time, 

Who dearly loved a maid." 



[23] 



THE MORNING WIND 

THE morning wind is wooing me, 
Her lips have swept my brow. 
Was ever dawn so sweet before, 

The land so fair as now? 
The wanderlust is luring 

To wherever roads may lead. 
While yet the dew is on the hedge; 
So how can I but heed? 

The forest whispers through its shade 

Of haunts where we have been ; 
And where may friends be better made 

Than under God's green inn? 
Your mouth is warm and laughing 

And your voice is calling low, 
While yet the dew is on the hedge ; 

So how can I but go? 



[24] 



THE OPEN ROAD 

THE roads wind over the plain, my lass, 
The roads sweep over the hills, 
And I swing along with a careless song 

Wherever the spirit wills. 
For ever the heart of youth is glad, 

And ever the world is new. 
And ever the roads lure on, my lass, 
For all of them lead to you. 

I sing my song on the heart's highway. 

And ever my song is love ; 
But anon I rest on the journey's quest 

To gather the flowers thereof ; 
For ever the shadows trail the sun 

As rosemary trails the rue ; 
And ever the roads lure on, my lass, 

For ever they lead to you. 



[25] 



MIDSUMMER 

THE daffodils have bloomed again; 
The apple blossoms blow ; 
The spring has come to Arcady, — 

And fain am I to go 
To share the lure of golden days 

Upon a purple hill, 
With you, my love, beside me 
Dreaming, starry-eyed and still! 



[26] 



BY LANTERN LIGHT 

A WHISPER in the shadows, 
A glance by lantern light; 
A pressure of the fingers 

Beneath the stars of night. 
Ah, memories of Pierrot 

Will linger long . . . and yet, 
Perchance he will remember 
And Columbine forget! 

A dance, a strain of music, 

A laugh, a roundelay, 
A dream amid the roses, 

A kiss, — and then away! 
Ah, Columbine, the picture 

Will linger long . . . And yet, 
Perchance she will remember, 

And Pierrot will forget! 



[27] 



ROSES OF THE NIGHT 

WHEN Pierrot to your window comes a-sing- 
ing, 
When Pierrot comes a-rapping at your door, 
Miladi, heed his singing and the roses he is bring- 
ing— 
Perchance Pierrot will come again no more ! 

For Pierrot of the starlight knows the laughter 
Of love, and treads the path of heart's delight; 

His songs are youth and laughter; and the joys 
that follow after 
Are roses . . . Ah, the roses of the night! 



[28] 



THE WANDER LURE 

THE robin's on the wing again ; I hear the call 
o' spring again, 
And fain am I to follow, lass ; it calls me not 
in vain ! 
Yea, I would join the chorus. Lo! the highway 
is before us, — 
But iv/iat if she, my first belo'ved, should call 
to me again? 

The wander lure is part o' me, and love is in the 
heart o' me, 
And I would tread the road with you that leads 
beyond the door. 
I hear the cry o' laughter, and my feet would 
follow after, — 
But ivhat if she, my first beloved, should call 
to me once more? 

Yea, I will follow you, my lass, around the world 
and through, my lass. 
To seek the peace o' summer noons that waits 
beside the sea. 
We'll leave the past behind us; come, the joy o' 
life will find us, — 
But ivhat if she, my first beloved, should call 
again to me? 



[29] 



UNTIL YOU CAME 

UNTIL you came, beloved, 
Dead was the soul of me, — 
An alien, in a wastrel land, 
To earth and sky and sea. 

But I have lived and laughed and sung 
And suffered, since you came, — 

Akin at last to earth and sky. 
To wave and wind and flame! 



[30] 



IMMUNE 

THE summer's roses bloom again 
To die, as die they must; 
Their beauty, born of mortal mould, 

Will perish, dust to dust, 
And summer days of later years 

Will dawn to pass away. 

But we are lovers, you and I, 

We are not such as they. 

But zue are lovers, you and I, 
We are not such as they! 

The dreams men dream, the songs men sing, 

The prayers that men have prayed, 
Like as the towers of Babylon, 

Into the dusk will fade. 
The stars will die ; and other stars 

May flame where they now shine. 
But we, who know Love's sacrament, 

Have drunk immortal wine! 

But fwe, ivho knoiv Love's sacrament, 
Have drunk immortal ivine! 



[31] 



B 



THE HOUSE OF DREAM 

EYOND the hills, beyond the dawn, across the 
Seventh Sea, 
There is a moonlit garden, lass, that waits for 

you and me, 
Wherepast the river Lethe flows, and by its silent 

stream 
That lovers know, the poppies blow . . . There 
is our House of Dream. 

And when our hearts are weary, and when our 

eyes are blind 
With tears of sacred sorrowings for loves we've 

left behind. 
Deep do we drink, upon its brink, until our fingers 

meet. 
And all the past is gone at last. And oh, the 

draught is sweet! 

The heights are high, oh love o' mine, beyond the 

vales of pain, 
Yet shall we seek the utmost peak again and yet 

again; 
The paths to God our feet have trod shall lead, 

like unto these, — 
Beyond the hills, behind the dawn, across the 

Seven Seas. 



[32] 



SHRIVEN 

I've walked the Way of Wastrel Men ; I've drunk 
of the Cup of Sin. 
Which of the Roads of Righteousness is the road 

I should walk me in? 
To God Almighty, Buddha, Siv and to Christ I've 

said my prayers, — 
But for all of the good they've done to me, they 
might have said me theirs. 

I've burned my sticks to the Chinese Joss, and I've 

kneeled at a Shinto shrine. 
Amaterasu's had my prayers, and I've sipped of 

the suhman wine. 
To Laou Tzse and the Manes ghosts I've bent the 

suppliant knee; 
I've turned to Allah, the Most High God. But 

what have they done for me? 

I've bowed my head to the Koran's writ; I've 

prayed to the Great Shang-ti, — 
As many a man has prayed before and better a 

man than I. 
But never a god has led me back to the path 

from which I strayed, 
Nor shrived my soul, nor gives ear to the prayers 

that I have made. 

I've heard the voice of Krishna call in the Land 
of the Temple Bell; 

[33] 



I've prayed to the Great Jehovah, Lord and God 

of the Israel ; 
I've paid my Peter's Pence to the Pope ; to the 

saints I've said my beads, 

And I've prayed to Ormuzd, God of Light. . . 

But none of the Fathers heeds. 
* * * -* 

Father, — ivhatever name You bear or under what- 
ever guise 

You come, — / bring You thanks at last for the 
wealth of Your replies 

To all of the prayers my lips have prayed, in the 
light of a woman's eyes. 



[34] 



LOVE IS EVER YOUNG AND FAIR 

"OVE is ever young and fair! 



xov 



^Red the wine his vinyards bear 
Man to woman, pair by pair. 

In the masque of youth and age, 
In the garb of fool and sage, 
Love will claim his heritage! 

Till ambition's tasks be done, 
Till the sands of time be run. 
Till the shadows drown the sun, 
Love and life are twain as one! 

Love is as a blade of fire! 

On his sacrificial pyre, 

Maid and matron, son and sire 

Feed his flaming radiance. Higher 

Gleam the heights that I aspire, — 

You ! . . and I . . . and my Desire ! 



[35] 



A SONG OF THE UNAFRAID 

WHATEVER the chance of circumstance, what- 
ever the skies may be, 
I'll face the gale or calm vfith a hail when my 

ship puts out to sea. 
The run o' the ships are little ships, but some be 

big and fleet, 
And some but ride the drifting tide, like the run 

o' the men we meet ; 
But the gods love best the man who breast the 

storms of their wrath with song. 
So I chose for mine a ship o' the line, where the 

fighting men belong. 

Whatever the havens I may find, wherever my 
lines may go, 

I'll face my fate with my shoulders straight, — 
and I'll face the Master so. 

Aye, mark you well, I'll meet my hell, (or the 
saints o' Paradise), 

Unsung, unprayed, but unafraid, with the light 
o' peace in my eyes. 

With my last breath I'll welcome death, com- 
manding my own ship, 

With my head held high and my breast laid bare 
and a song of cheer on my lip. 



[36] 



I 



ALONE 

N A door in Picardy a lonely woman stands. 

* * * * 



Somewhere, under alien skies, beyond the gleam- 
ing strands 
Of alien shores, the standards flaunt, resplendant, 

in the sun, 
Behind the grim, defiant lines that bristle, gun 

to gun. 
Somewhere the trumpets summoned ; somewhere 

the armies came 
To write the records of their faith in hurtling 

sheets of flame. 
Somewhere the drums are casting their stern, 

exultant spell 
To drive the battling hosts into the gaping throat 

of Hell! 

And somewhere, on an alien field and under alien 
skies, 

A soldier of the legion sleeps with staring, blood- 
less eyes. 

Unstirred by clank of sabres, unwakened by the 
roar 

Of rattling guns and crashing hoofs that he shall 
hear no more. 

Unmindful of the summer's rain, unmindful of 
the snow, 

[37] 



Unmindful, yea, of peace and war, he shall not 

even know 
The heart-cries of the vanquished, the victors' 

proud commands. 

* * * * 

In a door in Picardy a lonely woman stands. 



[38] 



REQUIEM 

WHEN I am dead, pray me no prayers; 
Intone no mummer's rhyme ; 
Nor let the surpHced gentry ply 

Their priestly pantomime. 
Return, oh God, my errant flesh 

Back to my mother earth. 
Wherein my dust may serve again, 

God will, at spring's rebirth. 
Send back my dreams unto the hills 

Whence, on the winds, they came; 
Let strong, my passions, seek their own, — 

Flame back to quivering flame! 
Into Thy hands return that love 

Men call the soul of me, — 
And give my spirit back to the 

Indomitable sea! 



[39] 



R 



RADIANT AS THE MORNING 

(A Bridal Song) 

ADiANT as the morning, gentle as the spring, 
Aivake, oh heart, and let me knoiv the rap- 
ture of the day! 
Into the realms of true romance rides forth, to 
thee, the King! 
Come, my sun, oh come, my sun! Thou art so 
long aivay! 

Exult, oh lands! Lift high your heads, and throw 
the portals wide! 
My lover ivaits ivithout the gates; his banners 
are unfurled! 
The king to-day, victorious, rides forth to claim 
his bride ! 
The day has come! The day has come, oh 
light of all the <world! 



[40] 



A 



LOVE TRIUMPHANT 

(A Wedding Recessional) 

lleluia! Alleluia! 
Alleluia! Alleluia! 



Men and worlds 

Will pass away 
As the dust 

Of yesterday. 
When the stars 

Have drowned their light 
In the last great 

Endless Night, 
One will live, 

And only one 
Lone, resplendant, 

Flaming sun! 

Gods will end 

Their fleeting reigns; 
Fates will rend 

Their futile skeins; 
Worlds and moons 

Will be forgot; 
Death will die 

When Time is not; 
Through the chaos 

Still will gleam 

[41] 



Love triumphant 
And supreme! 

When the silence 

Holds at last 
In the black 

Unfathomed vast, 
Stills the thunders 

That confound 
Ages whirling 

Round and round, 
Yet will shine, 

Immune and whole, 
Love's unscarred, 

Undying soul ! 

Alleluia! Alleluia! 
Alleluia! Alleluia! 



[42] 



BECAUSE, O BEST BELOVED, YOU ARE 
MINE! 

THE bees are humming, humming in the clover ; 
The bobolink is singing in the rye ; 
The brook is purling, purling in the valley, 
And the river's laughing, radiant, to the sky. 

The buttercups are nodding in the sunlight. 

The wind is whispering, whispering to the pine; 

The joy of June has found me, as an aureole it's 
crowned me. 
Because, O best beloved, you are mine ! 



[43] 



IMPREGNABLE 

LIFE is frail as a breath: 
J Vows are a fleeting bond ; 
But Love shall be Love till death, 
And perhaps beyond ! 



[44] 



THE WINDS OF GOD 

A Voice: The spring is here! 

The Bride: I feel the stirrings of a thousand 

springs. 
A Voice: Today I saw a lark fly past the tower. 
The Bride: I hear the murmur of a myriad wings 
Of nascent hopes, too timid yet to 

dare 
Within the realm of words. 

A Voice: You speak in runes. 

The Bride: I am the meaning of all thing that 
are, 
I am the symbol of eternal life. . . 
I bear 
A child, — his child and mine! With my heart's 

blood 
I re-create a life, mine, yet not mine; 
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, it is 
A thing apart, — a spark snatched out of Space, 
Lit first upon the altars of the Norns 
Back in the primal night when time began. 
I am the tool wherewith love consummates 
The miracle of life, and sanctifies 
My body as a shrine, so I am awed 
To silence, as when once, as a young girl, 
I stood alone upon a mountain crest 
By starlight, and in trembling wonder heard 

[45] 



The stark and vacant winds of God go by. 
This, that was I, is now become a prayer, 
Hallowed and quickened with the breath of love, 
As smouldering embers sudden break to flame 
Before the wind. 

I am the Host wherein 
The brooding Spirit of the future dwells. 
Each ecstasy of passion, hope and pain; 
Each thrill of music, mystery of the dawn. 
Wonder and beauty that bestirs my sense, 
Is caught by magic and made part of him: 
All that I think and feel and do and am 
Is woven in the fabric of his being 
For good and ill, like some great fates that sel 
The destinies of peoples yet to be. 
Now must I bear me with a glorious air, 
And garb myself in reverence and in fear. 
Lest, as I scale the heights of human joy, 
The star-dust blind my eyes! 



[46] 



UNCONQUERED 

THE shadow has befallen; the Night has closed 
the day; 
Death has swept unto my hearth and taken all 

away. 
Dust to dust returneth, song to accordant song; 
But Love is longer, aye, than Death, and strong 
as Death is strong. 

Stark and grim and frustrate, with void and 
vacant hands, 

The spectre lies with vacant eyes where Love, 
triumphant stands 

To guard our sleep, beloved, until our souls awake; 

For Death he taketh all away, but Love he can- 
not take. 



[47] 



AH, PIERROT! 

WHEN life was as the springtime, 
And blood was as the wine, 
We trod a measure, you and I, — 
Pierrot and Columbine. 

But now the dance is ended 

You smile and turn to go. 
As is the way of Columbine. 

But Pierrot . . . Ah, Pierrot! 



[48] 



IN ARCADY BY MOONLIGHT 

IN Arcady by moonlight, (where only lovers go), 
There is a pool where fairest of all the roses 
grow. 
Why are the moonlit roses so sweet beyond com- 
pare? 
Among their purple shadows my love is waiting 
there. 

To Arcady by moonlight the roads are open wide, 
But only joy can enter, and only joy abide ; 
There is the peace unending that perfect faith can 

know. 
In Arcady by moonlight, (where only lovers go). 



[49] 



WHEN DEATH SHALL DIE 

No circumstance of death shall part us twain: 
My love for thee is not for but a day, 
But sometime, somehow, ever and for aye, 
Mine arms shall hold thee to mine own again. 
Time shall not enter into Love's domain ; 

Men, creeds and worlds and gods, in grim array, 
Like chaff before the storm, shall sweep away. 
And death shall die. But love, our king, shall 
reign. 

Somewhere, between the black, abysmal night 
That broods in silence, endless and profound. 
Below the thunders of the seventh hell, 
And heaven's utmost high, celestial height. 
Where perfect love by perfect peace is crowned, 
My soul shall find thee. And the rest is well. 



[50] 



THE PHANTOM DRUMS 

MINE eyes look up, exalted, to the height 
Whereto thy spirit, thou my love, has led, 
To find the endless rapture of the dead 
Beyond my realm of touch and sound and sight. 
Thy love glows radiant as a guiding light 

Unto the shrine where godhead waits — and 

thou! 
I have not failed, nor will I fail thee now, 
But I shall follow, as the day the night. 

So, when my little sunless hour is past, 

And death shall summon, I shall rise arrayed 
In joy, as to the thrill of phantom drums. 
In high fulfilment, soul to soul at last, 
I unto thee, in smiles and unafraid, 

Shall come, triumphant, as the victor comes! 



[51] 



THE CHALLENGE 

10VE reigns resplendant, King of all the Kings, 
-/ Inviolate of time, and sanctifies 

The little span of futile years that lies 
Between God's rest and life's imaginings. 
Before the altars of our troth love brings 
The sacrament of peace, and, mantle-wise, 
Confers it on my spirit till it rise 
Unbound and unconfined by earthly things. 

Thus I, Beloved, acclaim mine accolade. 
Beneath the guerdon of thy love, I go 
To keep our tryst, as one who vanquisheth: 
Unscarred of fear, in garb of faith arrayed, 
I hurl the challenge of our liege. And lo, 
The King of Love commands the King of 
Death. 



[52] 



CORONATION 

MY footsteps shall not falter ; I shall win 
My throne beside thee, by love's sword, 

and bear 
My soul erect, and as a crown shall wear 
The glories of the love-life that has been. 
Yea, borne exultant in love's palanquin. 

Beneath thy banners, as to answered prayer, 
I shall approach the sanctuary where 
Thy spirit waits me, and shall enter in. 

Aside, O Death! And throw the portals wide, 
That I may enter by thy mystic door 

Where vision shall not fail nor lips be dumb. 
There I with thee, as bridegroom with the bride, 
Shall hold communion till space is no more 
And time is ended . . . Yea, I come, I come! 



[53] 



SHADOWS 

So gently blow the winds of night 
Across the summer sea, 
Methinks I hear the voice of her 

Come back again to me. 

* * * * 

How sweet the breath of roses is 
Beneath the evening rain! 

Or is it but the fragrance 
Of her lips come back again? 

* * * -:::■ 

The purples play across the hills; 

The world is passing fair. 
But oh, the sunlight of her eyes, 

The shadows of her hair! 



[54] 



GOD'S PUPPETS 

THE curtain falls, the lights go out, 
And silence ends the play, 
And Columbine and Harlequin 

In dust are laid away, 
And Pierrot of the nimble heart. 

And frail Pierrette, the star; 
So we must dance and go, my lass, 
God's puppets that we are! 

Who knows but that there little tricks 

Still live, and still amuse? 
And Columbine still runs away, 

And Pierrot still pursues? 
Who knows but that we too shall play 

Our parts, and reign supreme 
Upon the Stage of Silence, lass, 

Within the House of Dream? 



[55] 



IN LILT OF SONG BY STARLIGHT 



N lilt of song by starlight, in pauses through 
the day; 



I 

In dreams of youth insurgent that come, to fade 

away; 
In prayers for peace without me, in words that 

call anew 
Back to the arms of laughter, I shall come back to 



you 



In scent of flaming roses beneath the evening rain ; 
In flauntings of your pleasure, in flashes of your 

pain. 
In music, in the silence, — in little things we 

knew, — 
I shall come back, Beloved ; I shall come back to 

you ! 



[56] 



ONCE ON A RADIANT MORNING 

ONCE, on a radiant morning, 
AH on a summer's day, 
My best beloved set forth with me 

Upon the heart's highway. 
The land was filled with sunshine 

Because I loved her so, 
And all the world was young and fair, 
But that was long ago. 

Now I am worn and weary. 

Mine eyes with tears are blind. 
As near the journey's end, I turn 

Once more, to look behind, — 
Back to a radiant morning, 

Back to a summer's day. 
To her who once set forth with me. 

But came not all the way. 



[57] 



THE GRAIL 

THE daylight dies, but ever come the dawning; 
The singers pass, but still their songs pre- 
vail: 
So love. Beloved, shall be forever deathless. 
The wine is drunk. And lo! I hold the Grail. 



[58] 



BEYOND 

WHEN all my little worldly tasks are done, 
And life is through, 
Shall I, my love, lie down in sleep at last 
To dream with you? 

Or shall I find, when you and I shall rest 

In peace supreme. 
That death is Life but of a larger plan, 

And Life the dream? 



[59] 



This edition of "The Phantom Caravan" has been 
printed by The Torch Press for The Order of 
Bookfellows, and published by them at 5547 Dor- 
chester Avenue, Chicago, Illinois. MCMXX 



[61] 



) 



